A Different Beginning
by Madness Hamster
Summary: 5 years since he last saw his family, Sam the trainee lawyer meets his next client, someone he never expected. AU to start with.


**A Different Beginning**

DISCLAIMER: Oh, how I wish I owned the boys...

A/N - I've never been to America in my life, so hopefully any errors in geography are forgivable. Also, everything legalistic in this fic is scavenged from TV shows or adapted from Scottish law. There's warnings for a bit of cursing in the fic. Dedicated to Elaine, the best beta a fangirl could ask for :-)

* * *

"So, what've we got?" The tall man ran a quick hand over his dark hair, so unruly that the only way to keep it even relatively neat was to keep it short and strode down the brick corridor.

The short middle-aged, slightly squishy round the middle, cop by his side, taking two steps to every one the tall man took, handed him a paper folder and talked while the man read.

"Twenty-nine year old male, charged with the torture and homicide of a family of 3, mother, father and six-year-old daughter. The crime scene photo's are in the file, and lemme just warn you, they ain't pretty." The seasoned cop swallowed heavily and tugged at his collar, "we found the guy on the scene with enough fire power to invade a small country. He says he didn't do it." His voice was flat, not even bothering to pretend to be objective.

"Alright," they stopped outside a door and the tall man turned to the cop, "well, it's not really any of my business whether he's guilty or not, I just gotta defend him."

With that, he closed the folder and opened the door.

The bare room held a table with a chair on either side of it, a scruffy man with a beat up brown leather jacket and short dirty-blonde hair sat with his back to the door, not even bothering to turn round to see who'd entered the room.

The tall guy waited until he'd shut the door behind him before starting to speak, glancing at the name on the file in front of him while made his way to the other seat.

"Hi, my name's Sam Winchester, and I'm gonna be defending you."

The suspect looked up from the spot on the pockmarked table he'd been staring at, shock on his face.

"You gotta be kidding me."

Sam raised his eyes from the file at the voice, the shock mirrored on his own features as he finally _looked_ at the guy he was meant to be defending.

"_Dean_?"

* * *

2 years of college, 2 years of law school and a year of a traineeship in one of the most prestigious law firms in California.

Through it all he'd had no contact with his brother or his father. Since the day he'd walked out of the cheap, crappy motel room, acceptance letter to Stanford crushed in his fist and a small canvas bag filled with all his possessions slung over his shoulder, he'd not talked to or seen either of them.

The day he learned he had a full ride at the law school. His graduation day. His first anniversary with Jess. Their engagement party. The big events he measured his life by. His family wasn't there through any of it.

No matter how many times he'd held his cellphone in his hand, Deans number punched in, thumb hesitating over the 'call' button, he'd never been able to press it. He was never sure what exactly stopped him, fear that Dean wouldn't answer, or worse – answer and then hang up on him. Guilt because he'd just left, just walked out on his family. It was a pretty messed up excuse for a family, but it was his nonetheless. Anger at his father for not making the first move. For screaming at him to never come back and not once offering the slightest indication that he didn't mean it as literally as it was taken.

Whatever it was, it still added up to 5 years since the last time he'd seen either member of his family, and now here he was, walking into some backwater police station in the middle of nowhere just outside California on a legal aid job to garner goodwill for the firm, and his big brother was sitting, calm as anything, accused of murder under the name of Alex Osbourne.

"Dude, you gonna stand there with your mouth wide open or you gonna bust me out of here?" A familiar smile played on his brother's lips and he stood, moving around the table and opening his arms to envelop a still stunned Sam, "it's good to see you Sammy. How'd you find me anyway?"

Sam hugged his brother awkwardly before pulling back and dropping into the hard seat.

"Dean…" he'd imagined seeing his brother again a million times. Not once was any of the scenarios even remotely similar to this one, "I'm not here to break you out. You're charged with murder…I'm your lawyer."

His brothers smile drooped slightly, "what?"

"I had no idea you were here, I'm a trainee at the firm defending you."

Sam watched as Dean made his way back round the table, every gesture eerily familiar, exactly the same as the way he remembered. Each step slow and purposeful, a sense of confidence and danger contained in an almost harmless looking package.

Dean sat and ran a hand over his short hair, ending at the back of his neck, the movement tugging at the leather cord holding the amulet he never removed.

He knew he should be finding out about the murdered family but there were more pressing matters right now, "where's Dad?"

Carefully avoiding his little brother's eyes, Dean sighed, "look Sammy, walk away."

Five seconds earlier, Sam would have thought there was no way on earth he could have been more surprised, but now…"what?"

"You heard me," now Dean looked at him, locked those hazel eyes that were impossible to read, even to him, onto his own deep brown ones, "I'm not gonna sit in this room and wait for them to take me to a court and find me guilty of killing those people. I'm sure as hell not gonna tell them the truth, that the sweet little six year old girl killed her mother and father while she was possessed and the demon killed the girl before I could get to her."

Dean leaned forward in his seat, hands on the table, complicated eyes wide and focused, "either way, I'd be locked up. In a prison or a mental institution. So I figure I gotta get out of here. I'm due in court for a preliminary hearing this afternoon, figured it would be easy to lose the lawyer in the court building and get the hell out of there. Can't do that if you're the lawyer, Sammy."

"What about Dad, can't he bail you out?" That didn't sound like such a great plan to him, ignoring the fact that the poor lawyer would most probably lose his job for letting a dangerous suspect escape, Dean would need to make it past all the cops and security milling around the courthouse.

There was an exasperated noise from Dean, "yeah, he might. If I knew where the old man was."

"What happened?"

"We split up about 3 weeks ago, haven't heard from him since. I was on my way to California to see if you'd heard anything, maybe see if you wanted to help me find him. Decided to take this one last job before I got to you and now look what happened."

He paused and gestured with an open hand at Sam's suit and tie, "and here you are, dressed all fancy, actually holding down a professional job, and I know you got a fiancée back at the house, the whole nine yards."

The fact that Dean knew about Jess wasn't as much of a surprise as it should have been. There had been times, in his 5 years estrangement from his brother and father when he'd felt eyes on him. The prickling on the back of his neck, tension in his shoulder blades, feelings that only a hunter would have, borne from the knowledge that unless you were tuned into everything around you, you were dead before you walked into the field.

"So walk away now. I can't ask you to bust me out and you're not gonna come with me. Dunno what I was thinking." He sat back in his chair, movements stiff, eyes lowered once more, "so get me another lawyer."

"What, so you can get him fired when you knock him out and escape at the courthouse? No."

"Just do it, Sammy," Dean growled, "get out of here. Go back to you fiancée and live your white-picket-fence, apple pie life."

For a second, he was tempted. He knew Dean could take care of himself, knew that if anyone could pull such a stupid plan off, it was him. There was no danger of him being locked up, and Sam could go back to the life he'd led for the last 5 years, back to the life that up until 20 minutes ago, he'd thought he wanted.

And he did want it. But he knew that if he walked out of that door, that was it. The chances of him seeing either Dean or his father again were practically non-existent. He could deal with not knowing if he would see them again, he couldn't deal with knowing that he wouldn't.

"No, Dean." He stood, steeling his resolve for what he was about to do, "I'll help you get out, but I can't help you find Dad, I'm sorry, but I've got Jess to think about."

"Yeah, and what's she gonna do when you get fired for letting me get away?" One of the few times Dean was easy to read was when he was angry, especially when he was angry at Sam, "I won't let you do it, get out of here now."

Dean stood himself and moved towards the door, no doubt to pound on it and demand the removal of his lawyer.

"I'm not gonna let you go, I'm gonna knock you out."

"Huh?" Dean's confusion would have been comical if Sam had been thinking clearly.

"When the cops are escorting you to the van to take you to the courthouse, I'm gonna be leaving the station at the same time. You make a comment about me, I'll punch you, and they'll take you to the ER instead of taking you to the court. It'll be a lot easier to escape from there."

"Are you high?" Dean demanded, striding towards his brother and using his broad physical appearance to attempt to intimidate Sam, "you think that's got less chance of getting you fired than just lettin' me go?"

"It will if you provoke me enough. Dean," he cut off the curses now dropping from the lips of his older brother, "just do it. Get away from here and find Dad. Don't argue with me."

He didn't give Dean a chance to respond before pushing past him and pounding on the door. It opened almost immediately, the middle-aged cop having been standing guard on the other side.

"Get this asshole the hell out of here before I start throwing punches," Sam's voice was low and dangerous, the tone of the words making even the officer shudder slightly as he passed through into the room and indicated for Dean to turn so he could place the handcuffs on him.

"Yeah, like you could take me, you skinny college boy. I could kick your ass, even in these cuffs."

Sam wasn't sure if Dean was actually going to go along with his plan or if he was just humouring him.

"I want another lawyer!" The poor cop shrank back, thankful he'd already snapped the handcuffs into place as Dean turned on him, fury written all over his face.

"Tough shit," Sam spat back at him, "no-one else will take your case. Why the hell do you think they sent me? None of the seasoned attorneys wanted to take a case there was no chance of winning. Just take him away, I'll see him in court in an hour."

He held the door open for the officer to take Dean away, slamming it behind them before sinking weakly onto the chair Dean had previously occupied. The case file lay abandoned on the table where he'd dropped it when he'd seen whom he was supposed to be defending. Sam pulled it towards him, but before he opened it he reached into his pocket and brought out his cell.

Dialling a number from memory he hit 'call' and listened to the rings, trying to think of what to say when the phone was answered.

"Hey Sam, what's up?" He could hear the smile on her face through the phone and couldn't help he own smile in response. She'd always been able to do that, make him smile even when he thought it wasn't possible.

"Hey Jess, I just wanted to let you know that I'm gonna be late home tonight."

"How late? Keep-the-dinner-in-the-oven late, or leave-a-takeout-menu-on-the-kitchen-table-when-I-go-to-bed late?" She didn't sound angry, just understanding. He guessed by now she'd given up on having an uncomplicated partner.

She knew there was gonna be times when he would just disappear in the middle of the night because he was so restless it felt like there was something itchy under his skin, a product of never staying in one place for longer than a few months. She'd accepted the lines of salt at the doors and windows, though she didn't know why they were there. She even understood that he kept a shotgun under the bed and a wicked looking silver knife taped to the back of the bedside table, though they made her nervous.

Jess had known all this when she'd agreed to marry him, and the fact that she didn't question how he could take down a guy with twice as many muscles as him without breaking a sweat or didn't get paranoid when he phoned to tell her he wouldn't be home until after midnight was part of the reason he loved her so much.

"The second one. This case is more complicated than I thought, I don't think I'm gonna get out of the court till at least 5, and it'll take me a couple hours to drive back into the city. Then I gotta swing by the office and file the case notes, plus I've got a few other things to check out. Don't think I'll be home till at least midnight. Sorry."

"It's cool, just don't work too hard. Interesting case?"

"You have no idea. I'll tell you all about it when I get home if you're still up. I better go, I've still got the case file to read and try to come up with some sort of defence in the next half an hour."

"Ok, love you."

"Love you too." He flipped the phone shut and wrestled with the decision he'd made of what to do now.

Opening it once more, he scrolled through the numbers in his phone book before pausing on one he hadn't used in a long time. Sam sat there for at least five minutes staring at the numbers until they blurred. Dimly he noted that he was actually shaking. There were a million reasons why he shouldn't call this number, and a million more why he should. Dean was in the 'should' list and, even if he was the only reason, that was enough to overrule the other.

Sighing he hit that 'call' button and braced himself.

"_This is John Winchester. Leave a message."_

"Dad…it's Sam," he'd known this was going to be hard, but even talking to the voicemail was so much more difficult than he would have ever imagined, "Um, Dean's been arrested. I'm gonna try and bust him out, but I just thought you should know. Ok, I'll…um…bye."

Sam hung up, the shaking worse. The first contact between him and his father in so long, and it was a short, almost absurd message left on his voicemail. There was so much to say, but none of it he was ready for yet.

Heaving a huge sigh, he eventually opened the folder in front of him, more for something to pass the time than from any professional obligation.

* * *

Sam stood on the few steps outside the police station, squinting in the bright Californian sun at the transport van they were about to lead Dean towards.

The doors opened behind him but he didn't turn until he heard a very pissed-off voice exclaim, "I thought I told you to get me a real lawyer, dickweed!"

Concealing the small smile he couldn't help, Sam turned to face Dean and the 2 officers escorting him.

"And I told you I'm not going anywhere."

"I'd have a better chance if Ally McBeal was defending me. Y'know, I bet they just sent you out here to get rid of you. Your girlfriend's probably taking advantage of the time to bang the next-door neighbour."

"That's it," Sam gritted his teeth and swung as hard as he could at his brother's face. The two cops looked shocked to see a lawyer assaulting his client, but neither of them seemed to know what to do. While they stood there staring, Sam swung again, this time knocking Dean to the ground, where he aimed a couple of kicks at his abdomen.

Eventually remembering their jobs, the officers left Dean's side and grabbed Sam, pulling him back from Dean's still form. While one restrained Sam, the other moved back to check on Dean.

"Dammit, we're gonna have to take him the hospital. Possible broken jaw and cracked ribs. He's still breathing though. You've got a hell of a punch."

Both officers turned to stare at Sam, who managed to look sheepish whilst massaging his right hand with his left, "Sorry, I guess I shoulda controlled my temper a bit better."

The officers hauled Dean up to place him in the van, "we should arrest you, you know, but god knows there's plenty of guys who've wanted to sucker punch this jerk, so let's just wait till he wakes up and see if he wants to press charges."

"Thanks guys, I'll call the courthouse and let them know he's not gonna be there today. I'll follow you in my car."

Sam quickly informed the court that their accused wouldn't be making an appearance, and started his car. Pulling out behind the van carrying Dean, he was alone with his thoughts. Keeping his eyes on the vehicle in front he couldn't believe what he was doing.

Yeah, it was for his brother, his _innocent_ brother, but that didn't change the fact that he was risking his whole career to break out an accused murderer.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. When he was finally reunited with his family, it was supposed to be on his wedding day, or the day he got promoted to partner, the birth of his first child. It was not supposed to be helping his brother escape from police custody to look for their missing father.

What was he going to tell Jess if he was caught? How was he supposed to explain to her why he threw away his future? She understood so much about him and his secrecy about his family, would she be able to understand this?

He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to soften the migraine he was developing. Pulling into the parking lot of the hospital, he stepped out of the car and waited in the sunshine for the cops to unload Dean. Something which was taking longer than it should…

The back door of the van burst open and one of the officers rolled out, closely followed by Dean, looking round the parking lot. His eyes locked on Sam and he jumped to the ground, setting off towards him at a sprint.

Sam couldn't do anything but stand there, he didn't remember this part of the plan. He especially didn't remember the part where Dean put the gun to his head and ordered him in a shout to 'get in the car and drive.'

"Dean…" he hissed, very aware that there was a gathering crowd, including the 2 cops, on their radios, calling for backup.

"Do it, Sammy," came the hushed reply, followed by a louder, "If I have to tell you again, I'm gonna include a bullet with the request. Get in the car."

He didn't remember Dean being this good of an actor, the gun was digging into his temple and his brother's grip on his wrist was going to leave a bruise.

Moving slowly and surely, he wrenched open the door to the drivers seat, Dean slipping in the back, gun still pointed firmly at the back of his head. Their father had taught them well.

Sam shot what he hoped was a panicked look, but was probably more apologetic, to the cops.

"Just get a few blocks away and I'll pick up my car." Safely out of sight of the crowd, Dean removed the gun from the back of his brother's head and sat back in the seat.

"And then what? Dean, you're wanted for murder, you're not gonna get very far."

"I gotta get out of here and look for Dad. You got a better idea?"

He couldn't believe he was even thinking this, but… "come stay with me and Jess. Just for a few days, until this blows over a bit. I mean, you kidnapped your lawyer to escape a murder rap. Every cop in this damn town is gonna be looking for you."

"All the more reason for me to get as far away from you as possible. You've got a nice little set up here, Sammy, I'm not gonna jeopardise it."

"Jeopardise? You know a big word?" Maybe it was the adrenaline coursing through his system but suddenly Sam couldn't wipe the smile off his face.

"Word of the day toilet paper. Drop me off a couple blocks from here, then go home."

"Dean, I'm not just gonna leave you to get picked up by the cops again. Look, there's a bar just down the road," he gestured to a bar that could only be described as a dive. Hidden down a back alley, Sam wondered how they could even be in business. "Stay there, I'll go tell the cops you made a run for it, stole a car. I'll be back in a few hours to pick you up. You're coming back to my place. No arguments."

"When did you get all authoritative, Sammy-boy?" Sam knew Dean wanted to be annoyed at him, but he could still hear a smile in his voice, and knew his brother was thinking of old times. Back when plans like this were more about shaking off a persistent supernatural entity or sneaking away from their Dad for a couple of drinks, rather than escaping police and ruining careers.

"Since I became a lawyer. And it's Sam."

"Yeah, whatever," his chuckle made it clear that Dean still saw him as the chubby 12 year old he once was.

"We got a deal?"

"Fine. Let me out here, I'll go have a drink like a good little boy."

* * *

It was 4 hours before Sam finally left the police station. 4 hours of repeating over and over that he'd never seen Alex Osbourne in his life before, that the guy had held a gun to his head and made him drive several blocks before making a run for it, last seen trying to break into a car by the side of a quiet road.

On the bright side, given that the victim had escaped, they eventually decided they weren't going to press assault charges against Sam for the beating he'd given 'Alex'.

Sam had his doubts about whether Dean would still be at the bar when he returned, but there he was when Sam walked in. Bottle of beer in one hand, pool cue in the other, exchanging banter with the guys he was playing pool with while keeping an eye on the barmaid. Or rather, the barmaid's low cut top.

"Sammy!" For someone on the run, Dean seemed to be in pretty high spirits. Sam groaned, wondering just how many beers his brother had been able to make his way through in 4 hours.

"Hey, we gotta go dude."

"Just lemme finish this game and then we can go. I've been dying to actually _meet_ Jessica in person." Before Sam could protest, Dean quickly turned back to the pool table he was leaning against and potted the 4 striped balls left on the table, closely followed by the black.

The shocked looks on the faces of everyone else in the bar said more than words could that Dean hadn't been playing like that previously. Sam bit back a smile as he watched Dean pick up a large pile of bills from the rim of the table, grabbed his jacket off a chair and downed the rest of his beer.

"Thanks for the game, guys. See ya later. C'mon Sammy, dinner's on me. Well, them." With a completely sober swagger and that snicker that was pure Dean, he shot a wink at the barmaid and exited the bar.

* * *

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

Somehow, through all the memories Sam had held of his brother, he'd managed to forget how _annoying_ he was. They'd left Deans car – with much protest from the older sibling – in the alley he'd driven it down. A '67 Chevy Impala wasn't exactly inconspicuous, even in California. This, however, meant that Sam was stuck in a car with Dean for two and a half hours. With an extra hour tagged on because Dean insisted they stop at a crappy roadside diner for dinner.

By the time they pulled up outside Sam and Jess's apartment, he was about ready to throttle Dean.

"Jess is probably in bed by now," Sam checked the clock on the dashboard, proudly displaying 23:57 in bright red letters, "so please be quiet."

"Dude, you're whipped," Dean climbed out the passenger seat, sniggering, and made a show of closing the door gently.

"I mean it, Dean. She's gotta be up early tomorrow. I'll introduce you two in the morning."

"Yeah whatever," he followed Sam up the stairs and waited while he unlocked the door, "you sure I can't persuade you to come find Dad with me?"

Sam sighed, moving through the dark living room without needing to turn on the light, "I've got tomorrow off work, I'll help you with some research, but I can't just leave Jess and my job and go find him."

He softly shoved his bedroom door open, "Jess?" His words were a whisper. The bed was made, no-one lying in it. "She must have gone out," he called back to Dean, "gimme a sec, I'll get you a blanket for the couch."

The throw was spread over the foot of the bed and Sam spread one long arm out to pull it towards him.

Something wet dropped from the ceiling. Did they have a leak? Another drop. Sam wiped at the moisture, too heavy and dark to be water.

He raised his eyes to the ceiling…

"JESS!"

* * *

A/N2 - Please review! I'll even take constructive criticism!

EDIT – I've been informed about the length of time it takes to study law etc, in America, of which I pretty much had no idea. In Scotland it's 4 years study, and an extra year to do diploma then a 2 years traineeship, so I basically just modified this. Sorry if it annoys anyone, but I'm just gonna leave it the way it is because the amount of study needed isn't really a major plot point.


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